


Canary in the Coal Mine

by literati42



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Gil gives good hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Malcolm needs all the hugs, Suicidal Thoughts, chosen family, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 17:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20799947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literati42/pseuds/literati42
Summary: 2009, Malcolm has been out of the hospital for a few weeks after that day in his father's cell. Gil stops by with a face full of worry and an unusual present.





	Canary in the Coal Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Some reference to suicidal thoughts. Read the end notes for more on this.
> 
> Update: episode 2 informed me this bird is not a canary. I guess it’s an AU now?

Canary in the Coal Mine

The weeks since Malcolm Bright got out of the hospital were long and painful. His hand shook as he turned on the facet. His tremors, developed in childhood, were now significantly worse. The doctors could not determine if that was a result of the injection or the trauma. Partially because he so hated letting a doctor touch him. He glanced at the mirror. He looked paler, thinner, more haggard than ever.

He looked like a corpse.

Malcolm flinched at his own thought and shakily took the cap off each pill bottle. There were three more now added to his regular rotation, and one temporary addition for pain. He ignored that one. Numbing the pain was his mother’s coping mechanism, not his.

A wave of exhaustion rolled over him, and he lowered himself to the floor, leaning his back against the sink. He closed his eyes and let his head bounce against the cabinet.

“You can’t leave,” his father’s voice over his shoulder. He was in the cell, his hands gripping the bars that would not let him out. Chains clanked to the floor, his father was right behind him now.

He screamed, the sting of the needle in his neck.

Malcolm sat up, his hand slapping his neck. Nothing but a healing wound. He was home, safe. Out of the hospital. It was a nightmare, he reminded himself. A nightmare of a memory, his brain whispered back.

A knock on the door. Malcolm jumped, standing slowly. His heart hammered, his hands shaking. He made his way down the stairs to the door. “Who…” his voice shook.

“Hey, kid.”

Relief, strong enough it was tangible ran through him. He opened the door. “Gil…”

The man gave him a smile, genuine but not hiding the worry in his eyes. He raised his hand, showing Malcolm the last thing he would have expected. A birdcage with a little yellow canary. “Jackie is at work, but she wanted me to get this to you right away.”

“She wanted you to bring me a…bird?” Malcolm said.

“Yeah,” Gil stepped in, shutting the door behind him. He sat the cage on the floor and put a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. “Come here, kid, you look awful.” Malcolm fell into the hug. His friend, his family, Gil and Jackie had been at the hospital with his mother and sister when he woke up. One or both of them had checked on him every day since he was released. Malcolm stayed in the hug a moment longer than he usually would, letting the feeling of safe fill him up. Gil slowly pulled back without moving his hand off Malcolm’s neck. “You’re shaking. Another dream or the pain?”

Malcolm rubbed the back of his neck. “Both.”

Gil picked up the cage, “Come on, let’s get you a seat.” He walked up the stairs and gave Malcolm a little push toward the couch. The younger man complied, sinking into the leather as he watched Gil walking around the space with the cage.

“Are you going to explain the bird?”

“Jackie understands how your mind works,” Gil replied.

“Yeah, I understand criminal minds, and she understands mine,” Malcolm replied.

“She’s a Malcolm profiler,” Gil said, smiling fondly.

“And that explains the bird because…?”

“You look for the symbology of everything,” Gil said, coming over and taking the seat across from him. “So, you tell me. Use that brilliant brain of yours. Why would Jackie give you a canary.”

Malcolm felt sluggish, over-medicated, but the familiar click began in his mind, that desire to put everything together. To understand what it all meant.

“Canaries were traditionally used by miners to warn of danger,” Malcolm leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “But if she wanted to keep me safe physically, she would have given me a guard dog.”

“You are not responsible enough for a dog. You don’t even remember to feed yourself.”

The profiler waved him off, his thoughts still working. “You said it was a symbol. She wants to give me the idea of safety? No. It has to be more than that.” He lifted his hand, motioning like he did at a crime scene. “She wants me to be aware of danger? Why this specifically? In what way am I a miner?” He looked at Gil. “She thinks I’m in a cave, unaware of danger around me.”

“So she gave you a bird to remind you to step out of the dark, to not stay in there too long,” Gil said. “To come back into the light.” He motioned, “This is what she told me.”

Malcolm leaned toward the bird. “Is that what you are to Jackie? A symbol of sunshine?” He slowly glanced over at Gil. “What is the cave? My father?”

“No, you know it isn’t that.”

Malcolm nodded slowly, “It’s my mind.”

“It would be easy enough to get lost in there. Not see the warnings of danger.” Malcolm looked up, examining the way the detective was looking at him. He watched Gil shift, lean forward. “I need to ask you something, and remember…you never lie to me.” Gil paused for a second, but when the younger man did not object he continued. “Are you glad you survived the attack?”

Malcolm let the silence sink for a moment, “Sometimes.”

Gil leaned forward, cupping the back of Malcolm’s neck. “I’m glad you’re alive, kid.”

He thought of the father that tried to kill him a few weeks before.

He thought of the father figure that was here for him now.

“I’m trying to be,” he said softly.

Gil sat there with him a moment more than gave his shoulder a slight squeeze and stood. “You going to eat today?”

“I was going to eat toast,” Malcolm said.

“Wrong answer. We’re ordering take out.” He moved toward the kitchen. Malcolm watched the detective go and then looked over at the bird.

“Okay, Sunshine. We can do this,” he said it in the same voice he used for reading his daily affirmations. He stood, and followed Gil into the light of the kitchen. 

**Author's Note:**

> Malcolm Bright in my story and in the show demonstrates suicidal behaviors. If you or anyone you know is struggling with suicidal thoughts, go to the National Suicide Lifeline website:  
https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/  
They have a 24/7 help line to call, a number to text, and information on suicide. You can also learn more at the National Institute of Mental Health's pages on Depression  
https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/depression/index.shtml  
And PTSD  
https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/post-traumatic-stress-disorder-ptsd/index.shtml  
Both of which Malcolm likely has


End file.
